


Kein Wort

by uumuu



Series: Remodeling [1]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad Parenting, F/F, Gender or Sex Swap, No Smut, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 06:46:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10508463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/pseuds/uumuu
Summary: Curufin is annoyed with Celebrimbor, but Celegorm is there to soothe her.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the 'Someone/Something is Hidden/Camouflaged' square in my LadiesBingo card (the challenge allows genderswap in one fill per bingo).
> 
> Set in the same verse as [Remodeling](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5101016).

“Mother...I can't do it.”

The words, though softly spoken, were grave enough for Curufin to slow down her stride, allowing Celebrimbor, who had stumbled to a halt in the middle of the corridor, to catch up to her. She whirled around when he was right behind her, with a vehemence that rattled all the finery she wore on her arms and around her neck.

“Why, pray tell?”

“I can't marry her –” Celebrimbor stuttered, but his mouth refused to shape the words, faced with his mother's gaze, though he knew precisely what he wanted, _needed_ to say. _Because she doesn't want it because I don't want it. You know why_.

“You didn't say anything when we decided on it.”

“I had...doubts.”

“Tyelperinquar,” Curufin uttered his name slowly, like a sigh of barely restrained anger. “We went over this already. Your grandfather took the kingship from your aunt, claiming she was unfit to rule, yet she has been fighting twice as valiantly as any other elf, while _he_ committed suicide like the craven, inadequate usurper he was. Findaráto took your aunt and me under his gracious protection, because we were clearly unable to defend our kingdom or ourselves, never mind that _his_ kingdom is a pathetic hole, conveniently removed from Morgoth's sight and reach. Thingol banishes our language, won't have any dealings with us, but then his daughter comes to us, expecting us to be complaisant with her, and help her steal _our_ father's treasure on a whim of her father's. You see how it is, we have no friends, but if you marry Thingol's daughter, he will have to treat us with respect, and aid us in the war. You just have to sire a child on her, after that you don't have to look her in the face ever again, if you don't want to.” 

Curufin took a deep breath, her words ringing with a finality that Celebrimbor knew he wouldn't be able to fight. His mother wasn't entirely wrong, yet his conscience filled his mind with thoughts that nagged at him and wouldn't stop – that he had been engendered in the same way, that her mother had not married for love and should know better than to visit the same fate on another woman, that she was asking him to rape a woman against his own will. “I...can't do it,” he said, more to himself, as a way to banish the very idea from his head.

“Tyelperinquar...if you refuse to stand by me, who shall I turn to?”

“There must be another way, we could –”

“Do what? Ride to Angband, you, Tyelcormë and I?” Curufin burst out, her voice booming under the low roof of the cave, hoarser than it normally was, her calm, wily composure all shed. “You will do this for me, or you can stop considering yourself my son. Go and hide in your father's hidden city together with your sisters, if you are so much of a coward, too.”

Celebrimbor froze. He thought of his sisters, of how his mother had left them with his father before sailing east, fully expecting to never meet them again. Was it because she doubted their loyalty or because she had no need for them? Was there a difference?

“I won't do that,” he replied after a moment, though the words tasted like bile in his mouth. 

“Tyelperinquar,” Curufin said, once again, putting her hands on his shoulders. “I know you will not fail me. You love me, don't you?”

“Of course.”

“Then you will do as I say.”

Curufin drew him down and kissed his forehead. Celebrimbor watched her retreat down the corridor, unable to follow.

*

Celegorm lay on her side across her sister's bed, her legs peeking from a loosely tied robe, her hair falling around her in misty waves. She watched Curufin enter the room, smiled, a smile that burned and danced in her eyes. The sight was enough to ease some of Curufin's vexation after her discussion with Celebrimbor. 

“Everything is going according to plan. The princess is locked up in a cave at the bottom of the mountain, hidden where no-one can find her.”

Celegorm rolled on her back and propped herself up on her elbows. “What troubles you then?”

Curufin looked away. She focused on removing all of her jewelry, which she had re-forged after they settled in Nargothrond, because she had to look the part, she had to look no less a member of the House of Finwë than Finrod did with all the finery his servants had hauled over the ice, no less of a princess than Orodreth's Sinda wife. 

“Tyelperinquar is...recalcitrant about the idea of marriage,” she said, once her jewels were all heaped in a large glass bowl that didn't hinder their shimmer. 

“Come here,” Celegorm beckoned.

Curufin took off her tunic and undertunic, discarding them carelessly on her way to the bed. She stretched on top of her sister, and closed her eyes as Celegorm started roaming her large hands over her back, down to her ass, squeezed her buttocks. 

“Tyelperinquar is a dutiful son, he will do what he must.”

Celegorm tried to reassure her, then kissed the tip of her nose, licked her lips and jaw, slid her mouth over chin to suckle on her neck. Curufin tilted it to one side and sighed.

“It's too bad we can't sire a son on the precious princess ourselves,” Celegorm mumbled against her sister's skin, “she doesn't look bad at all.”

“You could try, maybe Tyelperinquar won't be as reluctant if he knows you've failed and need his help.”

Celegorm laughed, while slipping her hands under Curufin's briefs and pushing them down her legs at the same time. “You have a horrible, horrible sense of humour.” 

“I have a good grasp of what we need.”

“I do too, methinks,” Celegorm quips, and kissed her fully, ravaging her mouth with her tongue. With their mouths still locked together, she pushed Curufin off herself and trailed her hand down over her breasts, her belly and between her legs.

**Author's Note:**

> It should be pretty obvious who Curufin's husband is.


End file.
